


Camping

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Camping, M/M, Nature, Wrestling, casual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: Request for some Sassacre boys being sweet in nature. Written for the HSCCS Gift Exchange, for Grubbutts. Hope you enjoy it.





	Camping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grubbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/gifts).

The sun was shining and the breeze was sweet when John and Jake had set out from the car to the great outdoors, Jake in the lead and promising it wasn’t going to be too long of a hike to reach the site they’d set up camp.

“Really, John, it’s a beautiful spot. You’ll love it!” Jake promised, shouldering his pack with the eagerness of a golden retriever promised a spot of fetch in the park. 

That had been at least an hour and a half ago, and John was fairly sure that they’d passed by the same stump at least twice. He had bug bites, he was sweaty, he was tired, he was hungry, he was thirsty, and he was full of complaints that Jake was coping with in a stellar way. Every ‘are we there yet’ and frustrated groan or sigh was met with a chipper attitude and reassurance. After all, Jake had gone to this camping spot dozens of times on his own by now, and if John could just hold out a little bit longer then he’d get to enjoy it as well!

“Jake, come on, are we actually lost? We haven’t been on a trail in an hour,” John asked, “I’m starting to reach my limit here, this is giving me Blair Witch flashbacks.”

“Oh pish, there’s no way for that to happen. We don’t even have a map to lose!”

“We what-”

“Ah, excellent. John look ahead, there’s the spot!” Jake said, slowing his steps to let John catch up before slinging an arm around his waiting damp shoulders, free hand gesturing ahead of them in a sweeping gesture. “See? Wasn’t this worth the wait?”

Though John was pretty exhausted... he had to admit, it was worth it. The camping site Jake had led them to was completely isolated, but perched on the edge of a crystal blue lake. Flat rocks here and there were perfect sunning spots, and a well maintained fire pit marked where the campsite proper was at. All in all, it looked like a picture off of a postcard, stealing John’s breath away the more he stared at it.

Then Jake had started stripping.

“Hey, hey, whoa, what are you doing?!”

Jake looked at him in confusion, pack already on the ground with his shirt, shorts halfway down his thighs. “I’m taking my clothes off? What else.”

“WHY!”

“Because I don’t see the point in bathing with my clothes on?” Jake said, slowly as if he were speaking to someone very stupid. He soon kicked off his shorts and crouched to undo his boots. “The water’s always wonderful after getting up here, I like to go for a quick swim before setting up the tent and everything, rinse my clothes off.. You know. Get nice and relaxed.”

“But we’re outside,” John said, voice slowly failing as it sank in again just how alone they were. The chance of other hikers coming upon them was next to zero after the struggle of getting up here, and if a guy couldn’t get naked in the middle of nowhere to swim then where could he?

“Yes, that’s the best kind of swimming! No chlorine, no nothing, just you and nature and little fish nibbling your toes,” Jakes said as he toed his boots and socks off before dropping the rest of his clothes. With a flash of slightly paler ass he was quick to cannonball into the crystal clear water, rising up to the surface with wet hair and drenched glasses, laughing. “Oh, it’s  _ cold _ ! John, hurry up, it’s so refreshing!”

John rubbed his arm for a moment and watched before taking his pack off and setting it on the ground. ...Maybe just a quick dip. He glanced around at the surrounding trees before looking back to where Jake was happily splashing around, and pulled his sweat soaked shirt off over his head before dropping it to the ground. Off went the shoes, though John hesitated at the waistband of his shorts.

..It should be fine. Right? It was just him and Jake, after all. They both had the same equipment, nothing new to be seen there aside from the fact it was attached to someone else. Even if John was a little curious about seeing his in a bit more detail, this wasn’t the time or the place. Right now was just relaxing and swimming time. Steeling himself, John ditched his shorts and underwear, enjoying the breeze against sweat soaked skin for a moment before jumping in after Jake to the cold water. He lasted all of two seconds underwater before kicking off the muddy bottom to propel upwards, gasping sharply.

“It’s  ** _freezing_ ** , holy shit!”

“Haha, I told you it was a mite chilly, chap. Didn’t I?” Jake asked, splashing John playfully in the face with the flat of his hand. “It’s refreshing! Once we get out and start setting up camp, it’ll be perfect to drip dry free of. Just sun on bare skin, the breeze on ones nethers and the sounds of nature all around. Perfect temperature!”

John instinctively splashed back, making Jake’s springy hair weigh down with the water once again as he laughed. Drip dry? True, they hadn’t exactly packed towels for the excursion, but Jake hadn’t mentioned they’d be swimming at all when he mentioned this ‘perfect camping spot’ either. If it was just the two of them out here, maybe he could handle it. That, or he’d dry off with his spare t-shirt and at least hang around in his underwear till he could wash the sweaty clothes and get everything dry again on some of the rocks that littered the campsite.

They continued this way for a while, swimming in circles and splashing, till John finally was relaxed enough with the situation that the chaste kiss Jake gave him before walking out onto the shore didn’t even set him off in the slightest. It was just another gesture, an extension of the play, the fun, the enjoyment of the privacy. Nobody was around to stop them out here, they could do whatever they wanted. It was a heady realization now that the shyness was gone, John climbing out of the water as well and enjoying the feeling of warm sun on his thighs and back. The world was their oyster, and nobody was there to tell them ‘No’.

No strange glances, no comments, no people talking behind their backs for showing each other affection or being romantic in the odd moment. Just trees and birds and squirrels and fish for miles around. 

So this was what freedom was.

Together they set up the tent and rolled out the bedding inside, and together they went back into the water for another quick swim and some scrubbing at the sweaty clothes they’d hiked up there in before everything was laid out on the flat rocks to dry. Jake told John to clear the fire pit out and make sure the rocks were stacked properly as he headed out barefoot to collect some wood and kindling, coming back with his forearms scratched up and his chest dusted with debris from his finds but face happy as anything.

This was his element, this was a more habitable version of his home, of course he was living his best life out in the woods doing familiar things.

“I bet you don’t know how to start a fire, do you John?”

“Uh. Light kindling with the lighter and blow till it catches?” he guessed. True, he’d dropped out of boy scouts fairly young but how complicated was building a fire? It was like when his father would barbeque, only with sticks instead of briquettes and a pit instead of a round metal stand on a tripod.

“What about without a lighter?” Jake asked, crouching to rummage in his bag before displaying a bit of cording with a grin.

“Nnnnno, I don’t know how to do that.”

“Bow drill fires are the way to go when you want to be authentic, John, I swear there’s a difference to it compared to a normal chummy fire. Something about earning it, wrestling it from nature itself. Drawing fire from the stick!”

“Isn’t it just friction,” John said, sitting down cross legged near the fire pit to watch while Jake arranged a steepled shape of wood, setting the kindling inside.

“Well, yes. But still, it’s different than working with a lighter or even flint and steel,” he said as he selected two decent sized sticks and made use of the cord, tying it off onto one stick before wrapping it around the other. Jake worked the stick into a decent sized groove in a piece of wood and braced it with his foot to keep it still as he started to work the bow, spinning the stick quickly in space with each movement of his arm. Entranced, John watched till eventually the tiniest spark was created, cradled, and fed with kindling. The wood was placed into the center of the arranged wood, and soon had engulfed the kindling and caught the larger sticks, crackling merrily.

Jake was right: that was a lot more exciting than just starting it with a lighter, even if it had taken a while.

“Wow.”

“Wow is right! John, go grab some of the food? I’ve got snacks in my pack, but I think some decent chow will fill our bellies better. Besides, smores taste best when it’s darker out,” Jake declared, the voice of authority on all things camping. John didn’t have the heart to contradict his opinion, not when it sounded pretty damn accurate.

They heated water in a pot and added it to their dried food packets, one eating beef stroganoff while the other ate some lasagna, trading bites and laughing about the taste all the while. It wasn’t bad per say but there was a distinct lack of something substantial that left John craving smores by the end of it. Jake wouldn’t budge on the no dessert yet stance, however. He poked John’s chest with a finger and grinned instead.

“We’ve got more work to do before it gets dark, John. We need more wood, we need to turn the laundry, and we need to scout the best place for catholes and which bushes to water to avoid any potential poison ivy incidents.. And I wanted to show you which of the berry bushes would be good for breakfast tomorrow!”

With so many things to do, the smores were all but forgotten in the afternoon and early dusk glow of twilight. After tending the laundry and gathering woods, John still enjoying the novelty of playing at being somewhat feral for the day, they decided which place was safe to relieve themselves at later before being distracted by the promise of berries. Perhaps the dessert decision could be lenient when it came to berries? The pair was still standing by the berry bushes Jake had talked about, sampling the sweet fruits (Purple and blue, good for you!) and staining their fingertips and lips when they caught the sun fading, painting the sky streaks of purple and pink and yellow. John could see the hint of stars at the edges of the sky, could see the moon already rising above the tops of the trees and hillsides, and could honestly say it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen in his entire life.

The night was time for scary stories, which Jake surprisingly excelled at despite the sneaking suspicion John had that some of the tales were just recycled and remixed movie plots. John kind of regretted not getting dressed again during the tall tales, at least until he was able to fire back with his own ghostly tales remembered from years of researching ghosts and hauntings from different parts of the world. Jake skewered marshmallows while John talked, and nearly burnt his own while enamored with the story, scared or not.

Gently burnt or not, the marshmallows made for perfect smores and both wound up with sticky faces and fingers by the end. John licked his fingertips clean of chocolate and marshmallow fluff before noticing Jake sported somewhat of a marshmallow mustache from taking too big a bite earlier.

“Hey uh. You’ve got a little something right there,” he said, trying to indicate the right location with his own hands.

“Here?” Jake asked, licking his upper lip on the wrong side.

“No, no. Right there,” John said, pointing more directly. When Jake missed the site again he sighed and leaned forwards to wipe the spot off with a fingertip, giving a kiss while he was nearer, before popping his finger into his own mouth to clean the marshmallow off. “Mm, tasty.”

“Making me lose out on my sweetmeat concoctions with your tall tales, John, that’s hardly fair.”

“Hey, I didn’t make you eat all messy, that’s just the name of the game!” John defended, though his self satisfied smirk said otherwise. “Smores are impossible to eat cleanly, it’s like a law or something.”

“Pish posh,” Jake snuffed, leaning back on his palms to watch the smoke from the fire rise up into the sky that was now dotted with stars and their accumulated constellations.

“Not just pish?” John asked, leaning forward on his palms and knees, playfully teasing Jake’s speech patterns.

“Pish posh means silly, pish is far more extreme on its own. It needs the posh and tosh to soften it,” Jake said with a grin, eyeing John’s movements. “You’re a mite close to the fire and looking close to a tussle there, John. I’d be careful if I were you.”

“I was thinking of moving the tussle into the tent,” he admitted, “rather than someone getting burnt. Or a stick winding up somewhere uncomfortable. Or a rock.”

Jake’s face beamed so bright it looked like it might split. One moment they were resting by the fire, the next he was scrambling up into a crouch of his own to tackle John backwards towards the tent, rolling with the momentum till they’d landed square inside of it, rocking and rolling within for a time as they struggled and laughed, only going still when both were exhausted.

When the fire was safely put out they slept curled up side by side, already dreaming about what the next adventure they’d have while camping would be, smiles on their faces and the thrill of the won day in their minds. John had decided earlier in the day that he liked camping, that he wanted to come back out here with Jake in the future, that he’d probably be sad when it came time to hike back to the car and go home. But laying in that tent with the soft sound of Jake breathing and his back inches from his face, John’s decision took on a certain concreteness. No longer was it a desire, but a solid plan.

They’d be back here someday. He’d make sure of it.


End file.
